


Knock Three Times

by WinchesterStilinski



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-27
Updated: 2014-01-27
Packaged: 2018-01-10 04:49:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1155278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinchesterStilinski/pseuds/WinchesterStilinski
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean finally gets the courage to talk to the hot guy who lives beneath him.<br/>A short fic based on the song "Knock Three Times" by Tony Orlando and Dawn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Knock Three Times

Dean had started to take a few extra minutes every morning to rearrange things and touch up his hair before leaving his apartment for work, but it’s not like there’s an actual reason behind the tasks that have been newly added to his pre-work regimen. It’s not like he’s doing it to see some guy; some guy who plays his dumb music too loud every night; music that Dean has begrudgingly learned all the words to, and often finds himself singing along to. The same guy that lives directly below Dean. It’s not weird that he knows hot guy leaves his apartment every morning at 7:43 am; and before you jump to conclusions, Dean didn’t stalk him to find out this information, he accidentally slept in one morning and was running late, trying to get his ass to work as quickly as possible before he got fired. He had first met hot guy in that elevator at 7:44 am about 3 months ago, and Dean has been leaving a little later since then, and if Bobby noticed he started showing up later, he didn’t mention it. Now, it’s just a coincidence that Dean happens to leave his own apartment at 7:40ish each morning and happens to see the hot guy in the elevator, and god Dean really needs to find out what his name is. 

It’s 7:41 am and Dean is grabbing his car keys and slipping on his leather jacket while making his way down the hall to wait for the elevator and his daily glimpse of hot guy. Dean pushes the down button once, and when the doors don’t automatically open, he presses it several more times in quick succession, growing impatient. Rocking back and forth on his heels, he checks his watch, 7:42 am. ”Come on.” he quietly urges the elevator to be here already. Dean reaches out to push the button once more when the elevator dings, which is possibly the best noise Dean has ever heard, no, scratch that, hot guy singing along to his obnoxiously loud music is the best, but this is a close second. The doors slide open and Dean walks in, pressing the garage button before taking his place in the back left corner, across from the old lady in 5F. The doors close and the elevator begins to descend. When it reaches the second floor, Dean’s stomach flips, and he blames it on the little bounce the elevator does as it stops. Maybe today’s the day I’ll talk to him, Dean thinks but as the doors open and hot guy walks in wearing his usual attire, a trenchcoat and a suit, blue tie on backwards, Dean manages to maintain eye contact for a split second before his extreme shyness and vivid imagination kick in and becomes very interested in his shoes, willing himself not to look anywhere else. Maybe tomorrow, Dean reconsiders. Dean mind wanders into what would it be like to come home to hot guy in a trenchcoat and only a trenchcoat territory and the elevator seems to be getting smaller and smaller, making Dean feel closer and closer to hot guy. The close proximity gets Dean’s body going and he tries to stop it before he embarrasses himself in the goddamn elevator of his apartment building. The elevator dings and the doors open and the old lady from 5F steps out into the lobby, leaving Dean alone with hot guy in the elevator. The doors hadn’t even shut yet when Dean’s nervousness kicks in, he feels his cheeks beginning to flush, and he needs a distraction... quick. Shoving his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, Dean’s right hand is met with his phone, he pulls it out and begins to push random buttons, giving him something to do rather than stare at the only other person in the elevator, hot guy. Dean thinks of sending a quick bitch to Sammy, but frankly Dean doesn’t want to have to deal with Sam’s, well, bitching. Dean’s messing around on his phone, pressing buttons at random, when he accidentally clicks the button for the internet. “Crap,” Dean mumbles, trying to exit the internet as quickly as possibly, before his phone company charges his an arm and a leg for 5 seconds of accidental internet use. Pressing the end call button repetitively, Dean becomes annoyed when the internet still has not shut off on his phone. He reaches one hand into his hair to tug on it in frustration, while the other continues to press the end call button, but he presses too hard and the phone fumbles in his hand and clatters to the ground in the otherwise noiseless elevator. Letting out a groan, Dean bends down to pick it up, but as he crouches down to retrieve his phone, Dean realizes it has already been picked up, and straightens his body out. Hot guy has his hand extended, Dean’s phone sitting in his palm. Dean takes a second to make sure his face isn’t showing the extent of how nervous he was at this very moment before looking up at the other man. He has beautiful blue eyes that are looking right at Dean, not a harsh glare, but a kind gaze. Dean attempts to return the gaze without looking like some sort of wacked out serial killer or crackhead and he really hopes he’s succeeding. They both maintain eye contact for a few long seconds before the elevator dings, letting them know they had reached the garage. Blinking, Dean clears his throat, which doesn’t deter the other man from continuing his staring, and gives a quiet, “Thanks,” before grabbing his phone and hurriedly exiting the elevator in search of his car. 

When Dean reaches his car, he quickly unlocks the driver’s side door, and slides into his seat, slamming the door shut behind him. He puts the key in the car’s ignition, and turns it, bringing the car to life. He does a cursory scan of the parking garage before letting his head crash against the steering wheel, exhaling deeply. He can hear Sammy now, Look at little Deany, he’s got butterflies in his tummy ‘cause his crush looked at him. How cuuuute. Dean does not have a crush, and he most certainly does not get butterflies in his stomach because some guy looks at him. He grabs his seat belt and buckles himself in before driving to work, hoping that it’ll take his mind off of his distressing love life situation. It seems Dean was wrong about yet another thing; all Dean could think of throughout the day was hot guy and just how pathetic his life actually is, nearly causing him to put alternator fluid in the oil gage, which would have royally fucked up the car he was working on. After that narrowly avoided mishap, Dean decides to call it a day, it’s 5:47 pm, a little earlier than he usually leaves, but he’s sure Bobby won’t mind if it means making sure Dean doesn’t screw anything else up. He’s really got to do something about this if he wants to keep his job.

When Dean finally makes it to the door of his apartment, he fishes in his pocket for his keys, after finding them, he unlocks and throws the door open, glad to be home after a long day. Stepping further into the house, Dean sets his keys on the kitchen counter before grabbing a beer from the fridge. He walks himself to the couch and sets the beer on the coffee table as he sits down. He shrugs out of his leather jacket and throws it beside him on the couch. He grabs his beer once more and reclines back on his couch, placing his feet on the coffee table. The clock on the wall reads 6:24 pm, which means hot guy should be home and blasting his music any minute now. And as if he could hear what Dean was thinking, music begins to emanate from the apartment below Dean’s, signalling hot guy’s arrival.

♪ hey girl, whatcha doin’ down there  
dancing alone every night while I live right above you  
i can hear your music playin’  
i can feel your body swayin’ ♪

Dean knows this one, hot guy has played it enough, but this time really listens to it and holy shit, he knows what he’s going to do. He gets up and grabs a few pieces of paper and a pen, before sitting down at the kitchen table. Beginning to write, he sure is glad he grabbed more than one sheet of paper, because he just misspelled ‘know’, he must have it bad. Dean rewrites his message three times before he is satisfied, everything is spelled correctly and doesn’t look like a kindergartner wrote it with his foot.

one floor below me  
you don’t even know me  
i love you  
oh my darling  
knock three times on the ceiling if you want me  
twice on the pipe means the answer is no  
Dean (the guy in 3B)

Dean is standing at hot guy’s door, trying to work up the courage to slip the note under his door. Fuck it, he thinks, he folds the note, slides it under the door, rings the doorbell and rushes to the stairwell. He takes the stairs two at a time and is back at his apartment in no time, now to wait for the, hopefully, three knocks. It’s only been two minutes, but Dean’s getting anxious, maybe he didn’t get the note, maybe he doesn’t speak English, maybe he doesn’t know how to read. Calm down, Dean, maybe he’s just thinking it over, it is kind of sudden, you have only said one word to the guy. Dean lies down, pressing his ear to the ground, making sure he doesn’t miss the three knocks on the ceiling, when someone knocks on his door. Dean picks himself up off the floor to answer it, angry that someone would choose the most inopportune moment to try and sell him some crap or something. As he opens the door, he begins talking, “Sorry buddy, but I ain’t got time for whatever useless crap you’re selli-”

“Hello, Dean from 3B.”

Dean’s jaw drops, his eyes widen, hot guy is actually standing in front of him. Dean clears his throat.

“Uhh... Hey…?” Dean says shyly.

“Castiel, my name is Castiel,” he says before Dean can actually form the words to ask him.

“Hey, Castiel.”


End file.
